I See Fire
by LifeIsAVerb
Summary: With so many retellings, some stories need a shepherd to keep order. Nadia is that shepherd. With abilities that come to light in this new world, how can 1 girl guide a group of gruff dwarves, a hobbit who is as out of place as she is, and a wizard with a brain as seemly tangled as his beard? One can only wonder...
1. Chapter 1 - Dreams Of Fire

**Author's Note:** For those of you who read my Death Note fanfics, I know I haven't finished them. I'm just not feeling like writing them, so I'm writing this one. I won't even pretend like there's a publishing schedule because I do this for fun. However, like the other fanfics I've written, the main character is still M but there's no connection between them. There may be similar situations but just bear with me. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy the story. *****I don't own any of Peter Jackson or JRR Tolkien's works, only my OCs*****

 **Chapter 1: Dreams of Fire**

Yawning, I reach over to my bedside table, effectively knocking a few pencils to the floor. Feeling the smooth surface interrupted occasionally by rubber buttons, I flick my wrist to allow the small monitor's remote to land in my hand facing the screen. A red light flickers to life as I turn off the end credits to the second Hobbit film (only once I was sure that Ed Sheeran's _I See Fire_ had been completed). The room is now completely silent except for the hum of electricity from the fan spinning lazily above me.

Sighing contentedly, I lift my black sketchbook off of my lap and gently rest it on the floor against the side of my bed. Replacing the remote on the cream-colored bedside table, I reach back to remove the brown and black speckled clasp in my hair. Auburn waves fall upon my back; I comb through them with nimble fingers, pondering the film.

Being an avid reader of Tolkien's works and an artist, I naturally have quite a few critiques of the films versus the novel. _While the book was meant more as a children's novel, the film can't seem to decide if it wants to be for kids or adults._ I absentmindedly reach up and tug the string that hangs from my ceiling fan, effectively snuffing out the main light source, _I mean, there's plenty of snot jokes, but they're mixed in with stuff like beheadings!_ Adjusting my slightly twisted midnight blue t-shirt, I lay down on the bed, stiff sheets rustling softly.

I'm just barely able to make out the ceiling panels with the soft dim light drifting in from the street lamp outside. My breathing slows and I imagine being on a long journey like the quest to the Lonely Mountain. I release a less than lady-like snort as I place myself in the company of hardened adventurers. Curling a stray lock of hair around my finger, I smile wryly to myself, _I may be a decent sprinter and have a good memory for paths, but anything involving stamina is a nightmare! I wouldn't last a week!_

Not wanting to ponder further on the discomfort of such a long trek, I turn on my side and reach for my phone. I sigh as 2:30 shines in my face, effectively blinding me for the next couple of minutes. Resigned to a half hour of trying to sleep, I find the Pandora Radio app and allow smooth jazz music to drift about the room. I replace my phone and lay on my stomach. Trying to drift off, I think instead of the individual characters of the Peter Jackson films.

Pulling the thick purple duvet over me, I lazily think through the company of dwarves, hobbit, and wizard. The last two were barely worth thinking about because I simply adored them both and there wasn't really much more to ponder. To be honest, I wasn't really able to match every face with a name. This was especially true regarding the dwarves who didn't have lines or weren't seen often. _The largest hints are always facial hair and objects they carry in the films_.

I snicker slightly at the memory of Bofur's ridiculous hat. I recall the kindly, wise white-bearded dwarf, _I always wonder what it would be like to sit down and have a conversation with Balin, I bet he has a ton of interesting stories!_ Thorin was a no-brainer, all unwavering regal grace. Though I shrink a bit on the inside at how intimidating the character must be, _I have to admit that he really does seem like royalty that has simply misplaced his throne_.

I know that there are other members of the company related to Thorin; in fact, some of my favorite characters. Dark brown hair and a mischievous smile drifts across my mind, _I always feel like I'm missing a few…_

As my eyelids finally grow heavy, I can almost swear I hear a tinkling of coins as I'm embraced by oblivion.

Silence.

This is the first thing I'm aware of when my consciousness rises back into existence. It's an odd thing, I suppose, to notice the absence of something rather than a presence. Being with extraordinarily excellent hearing, I notice the almost ringing that true silence possesses. However, not even the slight hum of electricity can be heard which is extremely rare. I feel my brows pull together slightly in concentration, _I can't even hear my ceiling fan, let alone the music that I had playing._

I then feel the weight of gravity- not pulling my back towards the ground like it would have had I still been laying down… but my feet. Opening my eyes, I jump a bit when I see that I'm already standing. Still in my midnight blue loose-fitting t-shirt and black shorts, I stare down at the emerald-green floor beneath my feet, my auburn hair seeming to encircle my view. Disoriented, I lower myself to the floor in order to get my bearings. Raising my eyes, I acknowledge that, had I not already been on the floor, I would have fallen onto my backside in amazement.

Square emerald-green pillars climb hundreds of feet up to a black void. Veins of glittering gold run up the corners of the pillars, as well as along the sides of the path I currently stand on. Any light is dim and ghostly, without a traceable source except for perhaps the gold itself. Simple shadows suddenly form huge voids at every crevice. The air is still and stale, having had no movement for years.

I barely breathe as I speak in a whisper, "Erebor…"

A soft, yet strong voice speaks in a wisp of an echo, "Yes, Estelwen." My jaw pops as I snap it shut, hurriedly looking around for the owner of the strangely familiar voice. "You are being shown the once great kingdom of the Lonely Mountain as it awaits its rightful ruler to return it to glory."

My eyes widening even further in recognition and I feel my mouth go dry out of, honestly, intimidation. I resist the urge to speak aloud again, _Galadriel…_

My sense of wonder is interrupted when a frightening though crosses my mind, _Galadriel's speaking of Erebor as it was before Thorin reclaimed it. That means that Smaug is somewhere in this mountain!_ I lower myself into a crouch and look for a more concealed pathway to duck down, seeking some sort of shelter from the hellfire I was certain would be raining down upon my head any second now _._ I turn back to the other end of the hallway, fully prepared to make a stealthy run for my life, only to stiffen in amazement.

Standing at the base of a 20 foot wide doorway (I'm not sure how tall it is since the pillars disappear into the dark) is a pristine figure clothed in white. _Though the films did a good job in regards to casting a human equivalent of the elven-lady, there was no possibility for the actress to capture this woman._ Despite the perfect balance of her stance, I can almost feel myself smile a bit at the gentle kindness that seems to radiate from the Lady Galadriel

I hear a light chuckle reverberate in my mind, _"Ah, so you are aware of what's to come, yet you seem to be surprised by my appearance."_ Deciding not to stay alone out in the open, I quickly pad on bare feet to the regal woman. As I approach, I take note of the simple silver circlet adorning her head, the almost silvery bell sleeves that very nearly reach the floor as she clasps her hands in front of her. Neat waves of blonde hair cascade down her elvish silver dress, pointed ears rising from her hair. Very much intimidated, my brown eyes cautiously avoid her ocean-blue gaze as she watches my approach.

I come to a stop in front of her a few feet away, shifting nervously from foot to foot, _I feel like I'm supposed to bow… Maybe curtsy-?_ Galadriel chuckles again and one glance at her kind expression tells me that I don't need to worry about those kinds of formalities, at the moment.

I choose instead to analyze the woven patterns, much like vines, sewn into her dress at the edges of the fabric. Compulsively tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, I finally pluck up the courage to ask, "My lady, what am I doing here?" I speak quietly, unused to telepathic communication.

Acknowledging my discomfort regarding means of communication, Galadriel's voice commands no less than my full attention as she answers, "The story that is about to take place for this kingdom does not belong solely to the people of your world who have heard their tales for decades." I have to resist the urge to smile like an idiot at her almost musical voice, "Much as heroic tales change from retellings, so the tales evolve themselves." She claps her hands in front of her and begins to walk silently towards the doorway, her feet making no sound upon the emerald floor.

A bit rattled by this and attempting to absorb her story, I hasten to keep pace. Mesmerized by her silk-spun golden hair drifting through the air, I barely manage to respond, "But my Lady, what does this have to do with me?"

I look around her to see if her pupils change like they would to indicate a lie, but I can only see her eyes harden in an expression of determination. She turns to face me far more quickly than I'm used to seeing from her, _which tells me that she's shaken_. I stop in my tracks, shocked at this new development, _The Lady Galadriel, this frightened?_ Noticing my distress, she gives me the most forlorn expression, enough to make empathetic tears burn behind my eyes, "This story has changed, Estelwen, and I fear not for the better. Now only one with your abilities can set this journey on the right course."

I pull the hem of my midnight blue t-shirt nervously as I analyze her expression, _Her face isn't changing… as if she_ wants _me to see her vulnerability_ … Unused to people being so completely honest, I avert my gaze down to my feet.

Either not having time to acknowledge or ignoring my discomfort, Galadriel goes on, "It's now your duty to shepherd the story to its rightful course." A soft clinking reaches my ears, but a realization has shocked me to the core: _This means- this means that I'm currently holding the fate of this entire world in my hands!_

As I do my best not to hyperventilate, gentle- almost iridescent white fingers come down to firmly grip my chin. My face is slowly lifted up by the elven lady, but I find I just cannot meet her gaze. Galadriel removes her fingers but smiles in encouragement for me to speak. I look instead at her shoulder, mulling over my words. After a moment of remembering my manners, I say, "My Lady… I may _know_ of this world, but I don't know what I can offer to save it… I don't know magic, I'm not a warrior- I'm just a stranger." I force myself to meet her gaze, unsurprised at her encouraging smile. _My as well not make a fuss, she's not going to let me out of this…_

Galadriel's perfect white teeth flash as she smiles, "Your power had no place in your world. You will find guidance here, but it will be up to you," She lifts a finger to point at me, the silvery bell sleeves holding so much weight with the gesture, but appearing feather-light, "to perfect your abilities if you're to help the people of this place."

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, knowing that I won't turn my back on anyone, _even if I don't really know them_ … Lost in my own thoughts, I almost don't notice with the elven lady begins to glow with an unearthly light. Getting a nagging suspicion that the window to ask questions is running out, I reach out to her wildly. My hand passes through her dress, so I simply speak (although I forget the honorary title), "But how will I return home?! My family…" My fingers recoil into a fist as my parents, my siblings- everything I'd ever known, darts across my consciousness.

Galadriel has almost completely faded into the light, but I still had the distinct impression that she's smiling at me, "That will be a decision for you to make when the time comes. Do not fear, Estelwen, for this is not your quest alone." And in the blink of an eye- _she's gone_.

I blink, dazed, attempting to get my vision back after such a bright light. As I rub my eyes, a sound finally registers in my brain. Opening my eyes, I wish Galadriel had somehow taken me with her.

I turn slowly to face a glittering, blood-red mass emerging from the shadows beyond the doorway. My mouth goes dry as I take in the sight, unable to run. _This is nothing like the films._ This creature rises from the depths of its treasure, barely shifting the gold around it at all. The round coins sound more like rain than the roar of an ocean that I heard in the Peter Jackson movies. _This dragon…_ , I think with a dry gulp, _This dragon truly has the presence of death…_

It's too dark in the cavern for me to see anything besides the glistening of scales, but a light rises from the dark. I realize that it's a fire boiling up in the dragon's throat. I watch in horror as the flame makes its way up and up and up- until it seems as though a bonfire is simply resting mid-air in the dark. It lights the long, wickedly sharp teeth, bounces off the pillars nearby and I know that it is far too late. A large golden orb opens and a pupil zeroes in on my position.

Despite the fear quickly deteriorating my insides, I find myself adjusting my body to stand tall. Despite the fear of the creature itself, I do not fear the hellfire that will soon devour me. There is a silence, much like before a storm, before the fire shoots down to burn my being. I breathe deeply and step into the flames.


	2. Chapter 2 - In A Hole In The Ground

**Author's Note:** Moving right along, time to meet our favorite hobbit! ***I do not own any of Peter Jackson's or JRR Tolkien's works, only my OCs***

Chapter 2: In a Hole In the Ground

I gasp, eyes still pinched shut in preparation for the fiery blast. Breathing deeply for the next minute or so, I take in the precious oxygen. _It was a dream!_ I mentally shriek in an unsuccessful attempt to calm myself, _It was just a dream…_ I begin to release my fists when I feel, not the covers of my bed, but the springy touch of grass.

My eyes fly open to take in the bluest sky I've ever seen. Puffy white clouds drift gently across my vision, unaware of my distress. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead from the combination of the gentle warmth in the air as well as the stress of the night. Weaving my fingers in the universe's greenest grass, I sit up quickly- only to have a thick wooden staff thump into the ground across my body. I jump, a small shriek escaping my lips. Jerking my head up to the owner of the staff, I feel my brain crash to a halt.

I take in a weathered grey cloak, including a silver scarf peeking out from under a wild grey beard that would give Santa Claus a run for his money. My eyes circle up to a tall pointed grey hat, coming back down to a blue-grey gaze. Despite the firmness of which he's gripping his staff, the same firmness does not meet his eyes.

Much like Lady Galadriel, Ian McKellen's appearance had been almost spot on except for some subtle differences. Random lines of neat stitching holds the travel-worn fabric together. His face is slightly thinner with cheekbones that are sharper still.

"G-G-Gandalf?!" I stutter.

Gandalf's voice works its way past his impressive beard, though it's admittedly a bit more garbled than I'm used to, "Be still, dear girl! The Lady Galadriel told me of your arrival." Confident that I won't be standing up too soon, Gandalf removes his staff. Bending over me, he lowers his deep, lilting voice despite the absence of anyone else's presence, "I'm also aware that you know of things yet to be. I strongly advise you to keep any knowledge of future events to yourself. I assure you that, should your interference is too drastic, your quest will end in disaster."

My shoulders sag at his words, beginning to understand just how difficult my task will be. My eyes lower to examine the hem of my black shorts, my fingers combing the grass in an attempt to calm myself. Seeming to take note of my distress, I hear Gandalf grumble to himself before gently gripping my shoulder, "Now, now, Estelwen, I will be assisting in realizing the abilities that Galadriel mentioned to you."

Now hopeful, I tentatively smile up at him. Stabilizing myself with my arms, I begin to climb to my feet when a thought comes to mind, "Gandalf, what does _'Estelwen'_ mean? You and Galadriel keep calling me that, but my name is-"

Gandalf cuts me off, gesturing with a giant grey sleeve, " _'Estelwen'_ is Elvish for the your real name, _'Nadia'._ "

Even though Gandalf looks friendly enough, I don't miss when his eyes dart around the empty grassy clearing. _Man,_ I think as I look over random patches of dandelions sprinkled across the plain, _Whatever I'm supposed to do must be a lot more important than I think. It seems like Gandalf thinks I'm going to be attacked or maybe even spied upon as we speak…_

My train of thought is interrupted when Gandalf turns away from me, flicking his silver scarf over his shoulder, "Come now, we have a schedule to keep pace with!" Shaking my head slightly, but still smiling, I scramble to my feet and start after the wizard. Being such a tall man, his legs are much longer than mine and my legs struggle to match his strides. In attempt to ignore the panic steadily building in my chest, I decide to take in what I now know is Hobbiton.

Green hills roll into the distance, flowers of every color imaginable filling the valleys between. A soft wind blows by, gently curling my hair and tangling Gandalf's beard. Though I wear no shoes, my feet are quite durable from a lifetime of being barefoot anyways and the stone actually feels comfortably warm beneath my feet. I smile up at the sun, _I can certainly see why Bilbo will be hesitant to leave on an adventure! This place is the epitome of peace; I could stay here forever and a day…_

After a while of enjoying the scenery, I notice short structures atop some hills that grow more frequent as we approach. Squinting, I realize that they're chimneys. The path we walk upon is steadily turning from dust to a pleasantly worn cobblestone road. Knowing that any questions I have won't be answered once we're amongst others, I look up at the tall wizard, "I don't think that my name was simply chosen, what does it mean?"

Gandalf nods his head, the brim of his hat momentarily covering sparkling eyes, " _'Estelwen'_ means 'hope', appropriately enough."

My heart thumps in my chest at the word. My foot catches on a stone and I almost find myself face-first on the floor. Regaining my balance, I trot after Gandalf, but keep my head down, _This is too much! That implies that I was named in my own world for the purpose of coming here all along!_

Before I can voice my growing doubts, Gandalf continues, "However, _'Estelwen'_ is the Elvish translation. The company you are about to join is not fond of anything Elvish, so you will seldom hear that name. Speaking of the company-" Gandalf stops in his tracks so abruptly that I almost walk into him. Fixing me with an earnest look, he grips his staff a bit tighter, "This group is a very close knit selection of individuals. Their people, by nature, are very suspicious of strangers. I will not lie to you, you will need to prove yourself to them many a time." I swallow in anticipation at the gruff dwarves who I will have to somehow get along with for months. Gandalf leans back, "Do not be discouraged, for every time you prove yourself as loyal, it will further secure your place amongst them."

I open my mouth to respond, but immediately forget what I'm about to say when I hear a cheerful whistling from ahead. As we approach, I see my first real creature of Middle Earth who happens to be even shorter than myself (and that's saying something!). Dressed in a white button down shirt and tough brown pants, the bare-footed hobbit is carrying a rake over his shoulder. Pointed ears steadily rise over wild curly hair which matches the hair on his feet. I can't help but smile at the little man in excitement.

The hobbit catches sight of us and his cheerful whistling dies out. His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, even going so far as to stop mid-stride. To break the awkward tension, I tentatively wave as the shocked little man. I seem to have shocked him out of his daze as he smiles a bit nervously, bobs his head in passing greeting, and hurries off. Gandalf continues on with no thought on the matter, but I've stopped to look after the little guy.

Gandalf's drifting voice reaches me after a few moments of me staring after the hobbit, "Hobbits are quite solitary folk, they don't see many others here in the Shire. A wizard and a strangely-dressed girl are going to be cause enough for stares, let alone gossip!" Gandalf chuckles fondly.

As we walk on, something small thumps into the back of my legs. Regaining my balance, I look down to see a beautiful hobbit child. Just behind her were 2 hobbit boys and another girl, all dressed in earthy, faded colors. Rosy-red faces peer up at me, looking a bit apprehensive as to what my reaction will be. Much to the children's relief, I smile even wider in return and pat her curly head, "Hello!"

They all giggle a bit shyly, the even smaller second girl hiding a bit behind a boy, a portion of his vest clutched firmly in her chubby fist. Before any actual words can be exchanged, a few huge white butterflies cross our path. Being so young, the hobbit children's attention is immediately captured and they all scamper off after it. I honestly would have followed them, but Gandalf's hand comes down on my shoulder, "Nadia, keep to the task!" I glance up at him, but relax bit when I see he was smiling good-naturedly at me, "We're nearly there!"

And there it was. We walk by the empty lawn where I knew a huge oak tree would grow and the grandest party The Shire would see would be held under it. I grip the hem of my t-shirt a bit nervously as we rounded the bend to Bag End.

The first thing I see is the beautiful green door I had read about over and over as a child, a shiny golden knob in the exact middle. A branch-woven gate encloses the front yard, keeping in the wild grass which includes various patches of brightly-colored flowers. I excitedly spot the gate door upon which Frodo would hammer the sign _'No Admittance - Except On Party Business'_ decades later. Stone steps emerge from the grass down to, I inhale sharply, a small bench upon which sits _The_ Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins wears a yellow floral vest over a creme-colored button up shirt. A pleasantly pale blue scarf is tied around his neck and he holds a long curved pipe. His curly hair is a bit longer than would be considered reasonable from my world, but to me he seems to be the epitome of respectability _(even if his ears are larger than I remember)_. There he sat, not a care in the world; I could practically hear him as an elderly Hobbit saying, "Nothing unexpected ever happened…"

As Gandalf crosses in front of Bilbo, the most recent smoke ring that had drifted into the air morphs into a butterfly. The butterfly smacks right into Bilbo's nose. I have to exercise quite the amount of restraint in order not to laugh loudly when Bilbo blinks the smoke away and finally catches sight of Gandalf. _The poor hobbit looks utterly unsure of what to make of the man!_ I accidentally allow a small giggle to burst forth from my mouth.

At that precise moment, a small explosion occurs from the end of Bilbo's pipe! The cinders burst to life, creating its own smoke, before going out as quickly as it had occurred. I smile sheepishly at Bilbo, showing that I mean no harm. Bilbo smiles back, but I notice he looks down and then away, cheeks a bit pink.

I allow my eyes to dart to Gandalf's. He gives me a small smile, thanking me for breaking the tension. I also notice that he's not surprised at the small pipe explosion, but my attention is quickly drawn by the hobbit again.

Taking note of the wizard once again, Bilbo says a bit more cheerfully than what I'd expected, "Good morning!"

Gandalf grips his staff with both hands, leaning upon it easily, "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" He stares down his long nose at the poor hobbit who has gone quite slack-jawed.

I resist the urge to giggle, ducking a bit behind Gandalf's tall form so as not to insult Bilbo. _If he hadn't been holding his pipe, it would have fallen to the ground by now!_

Bilbo looks as if he's going to answer when Gandalf continues relentlessly on, "Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?" Finished with his complicated speech, Gandalf looks down expectantly at the now completely bamboozled hobbit.

I chuckle a bit to myself as Bilbo struggles to find a response, finally gesturing at Gandalf with his pipe, "All of them at once, I suppose…"

Gandalf continues to stare, vocalizing a contemplative "Hm…" I would have been a bit worried as to his intentions myself, had I not known what he was looking for.

Not knowing the story like I do, Bilbo turns slightly away on the orange bench cushion before turning abruptly back, "Can I help you?"

Gandalf's eyes are still narrowed in, to me, a hilariously comical way, "That remains to be seen…"

I roll my eyes, _If you're not careful, Bilbo's going to call for help!_ I elbow Gandalf in the ribs. As he turns back to look down at me, I raise my eyebrows and jerk my head pointedly at Bilbo, _Get to the point!_

Gandalf nods in understanding and turns back. By now, Bilbo is looking at me quite curiously so I smile encouragingly in return, _It's alright Bilbo, he's not all that bad!_ I shrug at Bilbo before jerking my head at Gandalf in a 'What can you do?' sort of fashion. Now looking a bit more relaxed, Bilbo nods imperceptibly at me before focusing on the wizard once again.

I peer around Gandalf's grey robes to see his eyebrows raise at his own proposition, "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." I shift from foot to foot, getting chills at the word 'adventure' and all it entails. Looking back at Bilbo in excitement, I realize that I had quite forgotten about the hobbit's original outlook on such things.

Bilbo's face goes, in another situation, comically stony and begins to lose color a bit. A bit frightened for his sake, I step around Gandalf and lean a bit over the fence. My hair almost tangles in the woven branches, but I pay it no mind, "Oh dear, are you alright Bil-sir?" _I hope that Bilbo didn't notice my slip up;_ _after all, he hasn't technically introduced himself yet!_

Bilbo snaps himself out of his daze and nods appreciatively at me, "Quite alright, thank you!" I step back a bit to give him some air as he addresses Gandalf again, "An adventure?" He swallows at the word before continuing a bit stronger, "Now, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." Bilbo's body language adjusts itself to exhibit more confidence as he gets to his feet. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things." Bilbo reaches around his mailbox and takes out some letters, "Make you late for dinner!"

He chuckles and replaces his pipe back in his mouth. As he shifts through the letters, I notice out of the corner of my eye that Gandalf now has a hand on his hip. _Clearly not a good sign_ , I think as I roll my eyes.

Bilbo, noticing that we haven't moved yet, looks up at us and back down to his letters. He grumbles and grunts a few times, gripping his pipe in a nervous tick. He takes holds his pipe as he blurts out yet another, "Good morning!" before working his jaw around in yet another nervous tick.

As he walks back up the stairs, Gandalf speaks to his retreating figure, eventually taking few strides to follow, "To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son," Bilbo turns back in shock to listen to the strange man who knows his mother, "as if I were selling button's at the door!" I politely move a bit to accommodate Gandalf's presence beside me.

I wrinkle my brow as I look back at Gandalf. _Buttons?_ I mouth questioningly.

Both ignore me as Bilbo almost whispers, "Beg your pardon?"

I almost give Gandalf a hug at the underlying tone of sadness as he shakes his head, "You'v changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

Uncomfortable with the amount of knowledge Gandalf seems to have, Bilbo quickly responds, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Gandalf, as disgruntled at Bilbo's response as Bilbo is with himself, replies a bit tiredly, "Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means…"

He struggles a bit, and I notice just how tired he seems. I reach up and pat his shoulder comfortingly, "You?"

Gandalf nods affirmatively down at me, "Yes!" He turns back to Bilbo with a bit more confidence, "Me!"

I see Bilbo's face dawn with recognition, "Gandalf…" He points his pipe at Gandalf and speaks more and more excitedly, "Not Gandalf the Wandering Wizard, who made such excellent fireworks!" I smile at them both as Gandalf half shrugs in acceptance, far more pleased than he had been a moment ago. "Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve!"

Bilbo laughs a bit and I see the spark of a fond memory jump to life in Bilbo's eyes. He and Gandalf look over the fields which Bilbo had gestured to. Though Bilbo doesn't see, I smile up at his position on the stairs, _Now there's the Bilbo Baggins that I grew up with!_

Unfortunately, Bilbo's usually polite brain doesn't filter out his next words, "I had no idea you were still in business!" He clasps his pipe between his teeth and I inwardly groan.

Gandalf looks back at the hobbit, a bit startled, "And where else should I be?"

"Well-" Bilbo gestures around a bit with his pipe as if the answer was obvious.

 _Unfortunately, it is!_ I clap a hand to my mouth and turn away from them, snickering loudly.

Sure that they're watching me, I wait until Gandalf speaks again before I turn back with a grin, "Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks…" Gandalf nods once to himself, "Well, that's decided! It will be very good for you," Gandalf points at the hobbit who, much to my ever-mounting amusement, looks agreeable at first before frowning off to the side in confusion. Gandalf adjusts his robes, "and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others!"

I sigh as Bilbo's face mirrors his slipping control of the situation, "Inform the who? What? No. No. No!" He hurriedly climbs the remainder of the stairs to stand protectively in front of his beautiful green door, "We do not want," He swings his pipe emphatically across the landscape, " _any_ adventures" He almost slams the letters in his hand upon the ground, " _here_ , thank you. Not today, not-" The ruffled hobbit barely manages to voice any words, instead bumbling along with 'hm's and 'er's.

Gandalf shifts his feet and puts his right hand on his hip expectantly. After composing himself a bit more, Bilbo finishes his original thought, "I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water." His hand jerks his pipe to gesture a bit compulsively over yonder before he mumbles a final weak, "Good morning!"

Bilbo quickly ducks into Bag End and I sigh yet again as I hear the lock click into place. Unlike myself, Gandalf wastes no time as he quickly strides up the steps. I follow inside the gate, but stop at the bottom of the stairs and almost groan aloud as Gandalf marks up the door with the elf rune, _I suppose it is necessary…_ I cross my arms and wait for Gandalf to look creepily through the hall window back at Bilbo. Effectively scaring the hobbit, Gandalf chuckles as he descends the steps.

An idea pops into my head. I quickly adjust my stance to reflect discomfort and distress, _If I remember correctly, Bilbo will look out his kitchen room window at Gandalf leaving. Now, Bilbo seems a bit more disturbed than what I recall, so we need to gain his trust now. He likes me more than Gandalf at the moment,_ I glance at the approaching wizard (who looks a bit confused at my body language), _so maybe I should play to his good nature._ I look up at the green door, _I'm sorry Bilbo, but this quest simply must go on!_

I'm jerked out of my thoughts when Gandalf stops in front of me. Before he can open his mouth, I use his body to shield myself from Bilbo's view for a moment, "Gandalf, I need you to trust me, yeah? No matter what I say, I need you to play along and leave me here." Gandalf looks as if he's about to protest, but I cut him off quickly, "Gandalf, we're losing time! I can do this!" I wink up at him.

Before any further discussion, I step into view of the kitchen window. Placing my hands on my hips. I lean towards Gandalf and speak quite loudly, "But Gandalf, you can't just leave! What will I do? Where will I go?!"

Gandalf, after looking a bit startled at my volume, seems to catch on. He ushers me aside with his staff, gruffly stating, "That shall be for you to decide!" Without another word, the grey wizard hurries down the lane and out of sight. As I watch, I do my best to look thoroughly upset and dejected. I sit heavily down upon the bench and allow my head to fall into my hands.

After a few moments, I decide it's been enough time sitting and 'moping'. I stare at a patch of particularly lovely flowers, _I don't know for how long Bilbo's been watching or if he'll look back out the window. Either way, I need to wait out here until he comes out; what to do in the meantime…?_ Drifting out of my reverie, I notice a few nasty weeds weaving in and out of the flower bed. Tired of feeling useless, I decide that even if it's a small thing, I'll do this for Bilbo.

I reach back and twist my hair into a kind of rope. Without a hair tie, I do the best I can and tie my hair into a knot. Kneeling down in front of the flowers, I begin to pull the weeds.

Unfortunately, this leaves plenty of time for me to think about the situation I've now landed in. _How an I going to get home?_ I find myself thinking hopelessly, _I mean I'm pretty aware that Gandalf and Galadriel aren't going to let me return anytime soon, and I wouldn't want to leave without giving my best shot, especially if everything they say is true!_ I wipe my forehead and sigh, looking up at the beautiful blue sky, _Well, I suppose all I can do is to try. When they see that I'm not what they expect, Galadriel and Gandalf will send me back or whatever they did to get me here…_

I have an impressive pile of weeds when I hear the door creak open. Not wanting to startle the now-skittish hobbit, I listen to his bare feet step down the stairs. Bilbo speaks a bit more politely than the conversation with Gandalf, "Excuse me?"

I turn, patting down a few stray curled hairs with the back of my hand, "Ah, hello! I don't think Gandalf introduced me, I'm Nadia!" I offer Bilbo a hand, but then realize that it's filthy. I look down at my own hand, "Oops- er, sorry!" I whip my hand back, looking up at him sheepishly. I notice that Bilbo is looking anywhere lower than my face. _Hm… I know this shirt isn't exactly scandalous, so what's going on?_

Bilbo chuckles, "It's quite alright. But, I was just wondering," Bilbo looks down at his pipe nervously. I wait quietly for him to collect his thoughts, "I was just wondering… er- well you don't seem like you're from around here." It dawns on Bilbo that this probably wasn't as polite as he'd hoped because he quickly scrambles to say something more appropriate, "I heard you speaking with Gandalf and you sounded quite distressed so- so-" I smile at the flustered little man, knowing what he was trying to say, "I suppose I'm trying to ask- are you alright?" A bit pink in the face, Bilbo stares determinedly at his feet.

I sigh, deciding to tell the curious hobbit a bit of the truth. Brushing my hands off over the flower beds before brushing them off again on my shorts, I speak just loudly enough for Bilbo to hear, "Well, you see, this place is not my home; I don't know how to return. Gandalf was my only link back home and I have no idea as to where he went, so I'm a bit stuck here." Though I had only intended for Bilbo to feel the weight of my situation, my own shoulders sag as I realize what I've said is far more true than I would have liked.

Working past his original discomfort, Bilbo walks down next to stand at my side. He pats my shoulder almost protectively. I'm shocked when his next words aren't stuttered or confused, but is actually quite steady, "Why don't you come inside? I'm sure Gandalf will turn back up and it looks like you haven't had a spot of food for a week!"

Despite knowing the polite nature of hobbits, this offer brings tears to my eyes after such a difficult… _Day? It's only been a day?!_ "I think I will take you up on that offer, thank you for it! Oh, but I'd be more than happy to help with anything you need to get done-"

Bilbo seems a bit uncomfortable with my tears, but smiles as he offers me a hand. Helping me to my feet, he snorts, "Nonsense! You're now my guest! Oh and by the way," Bilbo's eyes dart down to my legs before jerking back up to my face, his own a bit pink, "I'm not sure about your culture, but anywhere I know of around here, er- well, I'm certain I have some old clothes of my mother's-"

My eyes widen a bit in realization, _My legs! It's probably remarked as being pretty scandalous to be showing this much skin! I'll have to make it clear to all of the guys later that I won't be shamed for possessing freaking legs, but for now I suppose it'll make Bilbo feel a bit more comfortable_. I begin to protest a bit, "Your mother's clothes? I couldn't-"

Bilbo shakes his head, "No, no, I insist!" He glares at me pointedly and I know there won't be winning this argument.

I smile, _Bilbo gets pretty confident when he feels sure of a situation. That'll help him out on this quest_. I nod in mock defeat, "Alright, have it your way."

Bilbo nods affirmatively and offers me an elbow. Chuckling a bit, I accept his arm. Together, we march up the stairs, through the green door, and into Bag End.


	3. Chapter 3 - Unexpected Guests

Author's Note: ***I do not own any of Peter Jackson's or JRR Tolkien's works, only my OC's***

 **Chapter 3 - Unexpected Guests**

I hold my breath as I step over the threshold, almost hopping in excitement at seeing the real Bag End. The reddish-brown tiled floor is swept to pristine cleanliness. A large wooden chest with iron rivets sits to the right of the door and I almost giggle when I notice a randomly large bowl of pristine apples to the left. Though comfortable, the hobbit hole would be quite shadowy without the candles that are spread out along the long hall. Exiting off to the left is a unofficial living room with a fireplace, above which sits portraits of Bilbo's parents. Further still lies the kitchen, a wall full of pots and pans, some mugs, bunches of hanging herbs, and plenty of other objects I don't quite catch in a first look.

I breathe in deeply, noting that the air is surprisingly crisp instead of the mustiness I was expecting. The tiled floor is cool beneath my feet despite the hot day. The colors of everything are very natural yet warm, all shades of yellow, green, or brown. I feel some of the stress roll off of my shoulders from the fiasco that had been my hurried transition into this world.

I'm jolted out of my constant staring by a voice at my elbow, "Er, are you alright?" I look dazedly over at Bilbo to see that he's only a few inches shorter than myself, his curly hair at my eye level. _I know that hobbits are supposed to be much shorter, but maybe the films just didn't get it right._ Bilbo's eyes are a bit pinched in concern, awaiting my answer.

Jerking to answer, I stumble a little over my words, "Y-yeah!" I smile sheepishly at him, "Sorry, it's just been a long day…"

Bilbo pats my hand sympathetically, undoubtedly cringing internally at the thought of a day with a wizard, "It's alright now." His smile is so genuine that I barely restrain myself from hugging him, since I've technically only just met him. Bilbo leads me down the cozy hobbit hole, passing the very full pantry on the right (I wince, remembering that it will be cleared out in a few hours) and the dining room (still pretty clean, but would soon be cluttered with chairs, tables, and dwarves).

Unsure of what would be past these rooms, I let Bilbo lead me on past a few doors until he stops and turns to a simple door on our left. Opening the door for me, like the true gentleman he is, I step into a pleasant bedroom. The bed is made of polished wood and is pretty large, for a hobbit, covered in a patchwork quilt of blues and shades of white. A small dresser sits next to the bed, built of the same polished wood. A door on the left wall is cracked and I spy a mirror with a frame of dark wood carved into swirls as well as a white sink. What really makes my day is the round porthole window that looks out onto the lawn where the oak tree would grow. A few bright yellow flowers crowd the edges of the window, reminding me that we're still underground.

I hadn't even realized that Bilbo had left me for a moment, but right after I notice, he's back at my side. In his arms are folds of dark green and brown fabric which he offers to me. I look hesitantly at the comfortable-looking fabric, "Bilbo, are you sure that you want me to have these?"

He shakes his head, curls flying and ears wiggling, "Clothes are meant to be worn and these have gone unused for far too long! Now," Bilbo places the clothes on the bed and retreats to the hall. Taking hold of the doorknob, he begins to close the door but has a teasing smile on his face, "for goodness sakes, try them on!" I hear him chuckle right before the door shuts before the padding of feet down the hall. Not wishing to stay in my pajamas any longer, I move towards the attached bathroom.

Knowing that I won't be able to do so for a very long time, I take my time in the bath after folding my pajamas. _I'm kind of curious as to how they established plumbing in Middle Earth, it must have been a challenge!_ I think of ridiculous topics such as this in an unsuccessful attempt to calm the nerves of meeting the dwarves. Right as the stress gets out of control, I duck down into the warm water to squash it back once more.

 _Come on, only a few of the dwarves are a real challenge!_ I muse, pushing a few bubbles around the tub, _Mainly Dwalin, perhaps Balin, but certainly Thorin._ Even in the bathwater, I can't contain a shudder. Shaking it off, I begin to plan how I'll win the dwarves over, _Dwarves aren't exactly fond of rash actions or words yet they don't appreciate a killjoy. They value camaraderie and loyalty… yet they also respect an individual's confidence in their own abilities…_ I sigh in frustration, blowing bubbles, as my thoughts wheel in circles, _Right…_

I reach for a towel and step out of the bath, still thinking hard, _I think my plan should be to keep out of sight and as quiet as possible. A few things are different from the films and the book, so I need to be smart and observe._ Nodding to myself, I quickly dry my hair with the towel and brush it out with a hairbrush the size of my palm that was on the sink.

Walking over to the stack of clothes, I pull up the first length of dark green fabric. Allowing it to unfold, I see that it's a dress that is remarkably short, regarding the clothes of Middle Earth. A moderate neckline and no sleeves, the bottom went only a bit past my knees. Though a bit confused at the style, I love it regardless. _It fits well, considering it's a hobbit dress! Though,_ I look in the bathroom mirror, _I never really had much in the chest area but this dress accents it a bit more than what the inhabitants of Middle Earth are probably used to…_ I shrug.

The dark brown piece of fabric I had seen unfolds to reveal a set of pants. Considering how much of a shock the sleeveless dress would be, I decide to put the pants on underneath so as not to give Bilbo a heart attack.

Lastly is a piece of dark green ribbon that matches the dress. Making a mental note to thank Bilbo, I deftly braid my hair and tie the end. I take a moment to look out the window at the darkening sky before opening the door to the hall.

My bare feet are silent on the tile and carpet as I retrace my steps back to the kitchen. There's a crackle of a fire and a clatter of kitchen tools. I peek around the circular doorway, "Bilbo?" The halfling in question is now wearing a kind of patched robe over a white and grey striped shirt and trousers. He leans over the fire, cooking up two fish in a pan. Knowing how many he had made in the film, I'm touched that he's cooking for me as well.

"Nadia? In here!" He turns as I come into the room. I frown a bit in confusion when his face goes a bit pink, "A-ah! I'm terribly sorry!" He stutters a bit, putting the pan back over the fire, "I forgot that that dress is actually supposed to be worn with a shawl-" He grips the cuffs of his robe and I realize that he's going to take it off and give it to me.

Utterly astonished, I can't help but laugh, having to clutch at my side. Bilbo is forced to jerk the pan back away from the fire due to the fact that the flames had snapped to new life and are now licking the edges of the hearth. He turns his dark eyes back to me, confused.

I shake my head, waving a hand at him in dismiss his unnecessary concern, "Bilbo, it's alright! You're such a sweetheart!"

Bilbo tilts his head a bit to the side, "Sweetheart?"

I nod, walking over and taking the pan from him before it can fall to the floor, "This dress is actually very similar in style to ones I had back in my world! In fact," I lean towards him conspiratorially. He tilts a pointy ear to me as I whisper loudly, "almost everyone doesn't wear pants beneath it either!" Bilbo turns cherry red in an embarrassed astonishment. I clap him on the shoulder comfortingly, and gaze wistfully off into the distance, "Ah yes, 'tis true… Anyway, what can I help you with?"

It takes him a moment to answer, but he does with a firmness he hadn't been able to muster with Gandalf, "No, you are my guest!"

He tries to take the pan of fish back from me, but I hold fast. "Bilbo," I meet his eyes and don't break contact, "I've been dropped into a place I don't know and met a few people, none of whom really explained themselves. You are the first person to truly try to make me feel comfortable, like a friend. Please, let me help you."

Bilbo looks away a few times, but I wait patiently for his response. He breathes heavily out of his nose, checks my expression to be sure that I'm serious, and finally smiles a bit in defeat, "Alright," he gestures to the small counter beneath the window. A few carrots are laid out with a knife and a cutting board, waiting to be used. "Would you mind slicing those up for me?"

I smile graciously and release the pan, "Thank you, hun!"

He turns slightly before jerking back in the awkward way that he does, "'Hun'?"

I chuckle slightly and walk to the counter, "That's just what I call friends of mine." Bilbo 'hm's slightly, but I pay him no mind, _He'll get used to me_. I flick my braid back from my shoulder and glance out the window. The sky is already dark and my heart thumps as I realize that I will be meeting the company very soon.

I slice the carrots up quickly yet carefully, keeping in mind that my hands are shaking. Bilbo just left to attend to something when I spot Bilbo's mother's glory box. _Best avoid what conflicts we can_ , I quickly dart over to the box and push it under the table. Bilbo notices nothing when he comes back in, smiling happily at me.

I return the expression, _I get the feeling that Bilbo enjoys having company but seldom gets it,_ I think as I watch him set down a teapot, a large jar of honey, a candle, and a few bowls of various things down upon the table. Bilbo serves up the fish on two plates and I match them with my carrots.

My heart thumps louder and louder in my chest as I watch Bilbo pick up his napkin to tuck it into his shirt collar. _This is it!_ I keep up the charade of dinner by picking up my own napkin, but I continue to mentally review my plan.

"Well," Bilbo says as he settles down, "To pleasantly unexpected guests!"

 _Ah Bilbo… If only you knew…_

The doorbell rings.

I act quickly, schooling my face into one of puzzlement, "Bilbo, I'm so sorry, were you expecting someone?"

Bilbo looks like he's not quite sure that the bell was actually rung, "N-not to my knowledge," he stutters a bit, removing his napkin and placing it on the table. "Ah!" I raise an eyebrow questioningly. Bilbo nods to himself as if he's figured it out, "Perhaps Gandalf's returned from wherever he ran off to!" He rises to his feet and makes his way for the door.

I quickly get to my own feet, "Bilbo?" The hobbit comes to a halt, "I think I forgot something in my room, I'll go back there to check, shall I?" I smile, hoping he'll go with it.

Bilbo looks torn between the door and our conversation, but thankfully the pressure lends him towards my will, "Well, maybe it would be best until I see what kind of situation this is. You never know, all sorts of strange folk seem to be turning up today!" Bilbo winks as I walk past him out into the hall.

I gape in mock offense, "Bilbo Baggins, if I didn't know you better, I'd take that to heart!" Bilbo chuckles and pats me on the shoulder. Almost past the dining room, I turn back, "Oh and Bilbo?" He turns one last time, hand still on the doorknob. I grin mischievously, "If the need arises, feel free to give this new guest my portion of dinner." Without another word, I wink and race off just out of sight.

Once I'm completely concealed in the shadows further down the hall, I peek out from one of the round wooden arches that supports the tunnel. Tucking my dress into my hands so as not to be spotted, I watch as Bilbo opens the door.

On the doorstep stands an enormous dwarf. Separate large silver cuffs encircle both of his ears, long brown hair resting down to his shoulder blades, _Yet he's bald on top of his head?_ I'm a bit puzzled by the seemingly selective baldness, but have no time to dwell on it. The dwarf turns towards Bilbo, his broad shoulders taking up even more of the doorway. A bushy brown mustache, beard, and sideburns frames his face. A large metal ring can be seen over his chest, yet partially hidden beneath a thick brown traveling cloak.

A slow, deep voice resonates from him, "Dwalin…" He bows politely, but never breaks eye contact with Bilbo, "At your service." He waits for Bilbo to respond.

A bit stunned by the greeting, I applaud how quickly Bilbo pulls himself together, "Ah-," He firmly readjusts his patched robe around himself, "Bilbo Baggins at yours."

Before Bilbo can speak further, Dwalin strides into the hall, filling the space. Meanwhile, Bilbo tries to gain his attention again in a small, slightly squeaky voice, "Do we know each other?"

Dwalin looks down at Bilbo, and in the chandelier's light I notice faint black tattoos on the top of his head as well as a wicked scar curving across his nose, over his right eyebrow, and up his forehead. I take a moment to breathe, "Wow…" Fortunately they don't hear me, but I'm smiling at the incredible experience to be in one of my childhood's worlds, seeing these characters.

Dwalin takes note of Bilbo again, screws up his face slightly in rude disbelief, "No!" Not bothering with further conversation, the dwarf walks further into the hobbit hole. I quickly press my back against the wall and doorway, hoping the shadows will continue to be loyal to my cause. "Which way, laddie?" I hear a heavy cloak fall off of his shoulders and then rustling, like he's bunching it up, "Is it down here?"

Poor Bilbo speaks in his squeaky voice, "Is what down where?"

I hear Dwalin's feet twist on the tile and risk a look. Dwalin strides arrogantly to Bilbo, "Supper!" He throws his cloak into Bilbo, very nearly knocking him over, "He said there'd be food, and lots of it!"

Bilbo hesitantly follows Dwalin a bit, who strides into the kitchen, "He-he said?" Bilbo's face scrunches up in confusion, "Who said?" Despite hating Bilbo's discomfort, I know it would be unwise to help him this early. Instead, I grit my teeth and watch the events unfold.

A few minutes go by, but I don't dare move. An uncomfortable silence fills the home, well, apart from incredibly loud and noisy eating sounds coming undoubtedly from the dwarf. I hear bones snapping and know that Bilbo has taken my advice and has given Dwalin my portion of dinner. _Or at least I hope he has,_ I think, twisting the end of my braid around a finger, _He best not have given Dwalin his own food!_ However, even as I think it, I know that's what the sweet little hobbit has done.

A garbled voice reaches my ears, "Very good this, any more?" I wince in distaste, _At least swallow your food before you speak…_

Bilbo's voice is tiny, going almost unheard, "What?" I hear a clatter as Bilbo scrambles, "Oh yes… ah!" I recall the hilarious portion of this scene with the scones. "Help yourself!" This is followed by a truly disgusting series of sounds and I can only guess as to how much of the scones is actually getting into Dwalin's stomach. Bilbo hums, "It's just that I wasn't expecting any more company-"

He's cut off when the doorbell rings again. A few moments of silence goes by before Dwalin says in an almost creepy way, "That'll be the door."

When Bilbo opens the door, I smile to see one of my favorite dwarves, Balin. I almost laugh when I notice that his ears are even larger than I remembered, matching an equally large nose. An incredibly long white beard is paired with fluffy white hair as well as eyebrows and side burns exactly like Dwalin's.

Balin smiles cheerfully when he catches sight of Bilbo, "Balin!" He opens his arms wide and bows low, his dark red cloak rustling softly, "At your service!"

I wince sympathetically when I hear how truly dead Bilbo's voice sounds, "Good evening."

Undeterred, Balin straightens, "Yes, yes it is!" He turns to his right, looking up at the dark sky. The light from inside against the night outlines his incredibly long hooked nose, but I think it adds character. Balin turns back to Bilbo and steps gently, yet firmly, over the threshold, "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

I can't see Bilbo's face, but his voice tells me that he must look extremely confused, "Late for what?"

Balin is spared answering by a clatter in the kitchen. Balin lets out a cheer, "Oh!" as he catches sight of his brother. _Oh Lord,_ I mentally groan with a smile, _What I would give to see Dwalin caught red-handed with the cookie jar!_ Balin strides into the kitchen to greet Dwalin, leaving Bilbo to close the door. Balin and Dwalin exchange jabs with each other, but I grimace when I hear their heads collide.

That seems to be enough for Bilbo, "Excuse me? I hate to interrupt- the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house." Ignoring the poor soul, I have very little time to dart back around the doorway when the two dwarves stride out into the hall and come across the pantry. Liquid is poured into a cup, objects clatter off of shelves, and even see a hunk of blue cheese come flying out of the pantry. I shake my head as only I listen to what Bilbo says, desperately wishing I could walk in and introduce a little decorum.

The only point at which the two intruders acknowledge Bilbo's existence is at the end of his speech when he says, 'I'm sorry'. Balin's voice drifts out into the hall, "Apology accepted!" The bell rings yet again and I lean around to see Bilbo turn unbelievingly towards the door.

 _I do hope he's forgotten about me, I don't think he needs to be worrying about anything else!_ I think as Bilbo walks defeatedly towards the door.

The door opens and Bilbo emits a tiny whine at the two dwarves I know will be standing there. I find that I can't help myself, I turn and look even though the chances of my discovery are steadily climbing with each new dwarf.

The brother to the left is blonde, his mustache parted into two braids as well as two framing his face on either side. Each braid is held together at the end by a large silver clasp. _Wow, he looks like a freaking lion!_ Adding to this effect is the slightly golden brown fur that he wears on his shoulders and across his chest. He speaks first, "Fili!"

"And Kili."

I lose all of the breath in my lungs when I look at the other brother. His brown hair is much more tame than the other dwarves I've seen, no braids that I can see in the dim lightning on the doorstep. He has no beard, but a thin framing of stubble that looks pretty good on him. Kili's facial structure is a bit bony, truly that of a reckless outdoorsman. His clothes are much darker than Fili's, of a navy blue color. He's frowning slightly in an adorably confused way, seeming to be the only dwarf who is questioning the location of their 'professional' burglar.

I duck back around the pillar to calm down as they both bow to Bilbo. _Okay, breathe you weirdo!_ _You might have had a slight crush on the character, but this is a serious story with serious repercussions! You have no time to be thinking about a dwarf!_

Kili speaks again, "You must be mister Boggins!" I choke back a laugh at the incredibly enthusiastic mispronunciation. His eyes flash in my direction for a moment and I pull back. When I decide to risk a glance, I see that he looks a bit puzzled, but has apparently dismissed anything he may have seen.

Bilbo quickly cuts him off, his words running together, "Nope! You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house!" He attempts to shut the door, but is thwarted by Kili's boot. I'm unable to listen in or to watch the rest of the conversation as Dwalin struts out of the pantry and I'm forced to hide yet again.

I groan inwardly as I miss a good portion of the dwarves meeting their comrades, _Ugh, I don't know how much longer I can hide here!_

Almost as if answering my plea, the doorbell rings yet again I exhale in relief, _Gandalf!_ Knowing that I will be able to come out of hiding when he comes in, I quickly straighten my dress and take a few deep breathes. _You can do this, you can do this!_

Meanwhile, Bilbo breathes heavily under all of the swords, knives, daggers, etcetera given to him undoubtedly by Fili, "Oh no… No, no-" Bilbo struggles to make his way to the door, "There's NOBODY HOME!" Bilbo throws all caution to the winds and allows all of the weapons to clatter into a side of the hall, "GO AWAY AND-" He thrashes around to dislodge a belted weapon from his shoulder, "GO BOTHER SOMEBODY ELSE! THERE'S FAR TOO MANY DWARVES IN MY DINING ROOM AS IT IS! If this is some- CLOT HEAD'S idea of a joke-" Bilbo laughs humorlessly, finally reaching the doorknob.

I automatically begin to cringe away from the post I hide behind, knowing the avalanche that awaits behind the door. Bilbo continues his tirade, "I can only say, it is in very poor taste!"

Bilbo jerks open the door. In tumbles a cascade of dwarves, grunting and groaning all the way. I smile wryly as I hear insults exchanged, _Did you all really need to be pressed up against the door?_ I almost laugh aloud as I notice that Bombur is, of course, one of the dwarves on top.

A tall figure stoops into view. I breathe the same word that Bilbo says tiredly, "Gandalf…"

Once the dwarves had straightened themselves, they immediately proceeded to raid the pantry. Bilbo darts back and forth in a useless attempt to save some of his supplies. Bombur totters by with a huge wheel of cheese. When Bilbo tries to stop him, Bofur, carrying a large ham, informs him that Bombur eats it 'by the block'. Gloin and Oin walk past carrying a chair, and Bilbo tries in vain to stop the nearly deaf Oin. A wildly fierce looking Bifur carries a large plate of sliced cheese and I can't help but wonder if there's any way to remove the large chunk of axe imbedded in his head.

 _This is absolute pandemonium!_ I think, wincing a bit of food falls to the floor and is ground into the already filthy carpet by the dwarves' boots.

I spot Gandalf here and there, but neither of us have the chance to get past all of the dwarves, _Well, and Gandalf doesn't know where I am per say._ Still needing to keep up appearances, Gandalf helps set up the table but whenever he comes into view, he's looking around with keen eyes in an attempt to spot me. Soon enough I can hear Fili hollering over the group, "Who wants an ale?!" Deafening cheering ensue as well as the clanking of tankards.

I shrug to myself, now sitting on the floor in the doorway's corner and getting very tired of it, _I suppose I can't blame them for wanting to have a good time. They go through more than most and they don't really get to see each other that often._ No sooner am I done with this gracious forgiving thought when a few seconds of near silence ensues, interrupted only by loud gulping. I grimace in anticipation, _Oh no…_ The belching contest begins and I can only assume what Bilbo's expression is and it makes me quite glad not to be in his vicinity, _Ugh…_ I wrinkle my nose in distaste, fiddling with the hem of the dark green dress and curling my toes, _That was uncalled for!_

I glance around to see Bilbo fuming quietly at the doorway to his now empty pantry. Unable to truly dwell on the mess, the dwarves file in and out of the kitchen. Bilbo noisily confiscates a doily from Nori, but I'm busy thunking my head on the wall behind me, _I really hope Gandalf comes near me soon. I really don't want to walk out there without his help, I have no idea how I'm going to explain this situation anyway!_

About ready to pull my hair out, I finally hear Bilbo rambling about mud in the carpet. Bilbo finally steps into the hall from the kitchen, leading Gandalf, "They've _pillaged_ the pantry!" Bilbo practically stomps through the floor as he approaches me, "I'm not even going to tell you what they did in the bathroom, they've all but destroyed the plumbing-" I can't help myself, I giggle a bit at that statement. Bilbo finally crescendos to a kind of shrill whisper, "I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Now having said his piece for now, Bilbo puts his hands on his hips. He isn't left for long as one of the most adorable dwarves steps up to him with a dirty plate. Wearing a large grey knit sweater and sporting a kind of odd reddish-brown bowl cut, Ori gestures with the plate, "'scuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt," I smile at the first real manners I've heard all night from a dwarf, "But what should I do with my plate?"

Fili walks casually out of the pantry, but I don't trust the smirk that graces his face. I want to step forward and grab the plate, if only to save Bilbo from a heart attack, but I'm too late. "Here Ori, give it to me!" Fili takes the plate before throwing it like a frisbee to Kili who stands just outside of the kitchen.

So the dwarves pottery acrobatics begins. Seeing that Bilbo and the dwarves are adequately distracted, I grab Gandalf's sleeve and tug gently, "Gandalf!"

The tall wizard turns and looks down in shock and then relief, "Nadia, good! I was starting to worry about you, you know!" Gandalf winks at me. He blows out a puff of smoke, "Did Bilbo treat you well? I see you got a change of clothes!" A frown creeps across his features when I look down at my feet and don't answer, "My dear girl, what ever is the matter? I assume you've been hiding here, but why?"

"It's just-" I wring my hands, listening to the clatter of dishes for a moment. I can't meet his eyes, "Gandalf, I- I'm nervous! You and Galadriel seem to think I'm important and even if I am, they won't believe that! It's not like many women are known to do much in this world. How will they ever accept me if they won't give me a chance?" I finally look up, up, up at his blue eyes, unconcealed worry in my own.

Gandalf lowers his pipe, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Nadia… Aren't you doing the same thing?" I blink. "You are afraid they won't give you a chance, yet you have not given them one either." Gandalf looks over his shoulder, checking to make sure that no one's headed in our direction. His right hand fiddles with the bottom of his beard thoughtfully, "I will not lie to you that you will have to prove yourself, but so does everyone from any world." Gandalf's cheerful nature is beginning to work in his favor of calming me down, but something else is on my mind.

"But there's something else." I allow my left foot to swing, scuffing the tiles as I stare down at its progress, "Galadriel said I have a powerful ability, but I don't, Gandalf! I don't know what use I will be to this company…" I barely choke out the last sentence, tears beginning to burn in my eyes.

Gandalf doesn't seem shaken by my emotional state. He bends down out of a wreath of smoke and claps a hand on my shoulder, "Not to worry! I have already discovered your ability!"

I jerk my head up, hearing something in my neck pop in my haste, "You have? What is it?!" I'm eager now, hopeful that I'll have something to contribute.

Gandalf smiles at my positive change in mood, "All in good time, it will be revealed when the leader of the company arrives." His face is lined, but not with worry, "Now, get something to eat and don't explain anything about yourself. You should meet them, but I have a plan as to an explanation."

I begin to stutter a denial, backing into the shadows once more, but Gandalf's hand has attained an iron grip on my shoulder. He smiles down at me knowingly and begins to drag me into the hall.

Just as I've almost come into the light, it happens.

 _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

The door… My heart drops to the floor along with any courage I had mustered from my conversation with Gandalf. The wizard walks further down the hall in view of the dwarves residing in the dining room. Though he whispers, the words are heard by everyone in Bag End:

"He's here."


	4. Chapter 4 - First Impressions

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! ***I do not own any of Peter Jackson's or JRR Tolkien's works, only my OC's***

 **Chapter 4 - First Impressions**

Everyone rushes to the door, but I lean back agains the wall to take a moment to breathe deeply. _These dwarves are no different from anyone new I'd meet back at home. Whatever first impressions they have don't matter, you need to be honest to yourself about your own morals,_ I coach myself. I step out of the shadows and follow behind the dwarves, my soft footsteps going unnoticed in the commotion. I tighten the ribbon at the end of my braid, straightening my dress and pants nervously. _Thorin isn't going to trust you anyway, but you need to stand for what you believe in. I get the feeling that staying honest will impress them all the most._ I exhale, don a brave face, and stand at the back of the crowd to listen to the conversation. I'm careful not to get too close to

The door creaks open loudly to reveal a very ominous-looking dwarf. I can't make out much of him in the night besides dark hair and beard as well as a dark cloak. His stance is confident, but also bowed, _As if he holds the weight of the world- the weight of his race, on his shoulders…_ His nose is straight, compared to the other dwarves. Thorin turns his profile to acknowledge those inside.

However, the only person he seems to see is- "Gandalf." His voice is extremely deep and slow. I sniff to myself, _He doesn't even take note of any of his companions, he didn't even look at them!_ I check the expressions of everyone. They all stand in small groups, huddled in doorways or crowding the hall. I notice that only Ori seems a little discouraged by Thorin's lack of acknowledgement, _Everyone else may be used to it._

Thorin strides inside with heavy boots, _Almost like he owns Bilbo's home!_

"I thought you said this would be easy to find. I lost my way twice." Ori and Dori incline their heads to Thorin; Dwalin simply meets his gaze steadily, but I see a glimmer of respect shine in them.

Under the chandelier's light, Thorin's hair is revealed to be almost silvery-black. His beard is well trimmed and braids decorate various sections. He begins to unclasp his cloak, "Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

Bilbo struggles to find his way past Dori, Dwalin, and Ori standing in the kitchen's doorway as Thorin warps up his cloak (revealing yet another kind of fur-vest thing), "Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" Bilbo pushes his way into the hallway to inspect his door.

Meanwhile, Thorin turns and smiles at Kili. I grin lopsidedly, _He's not nearly as cold-hearted as he'd like to be!_

Gandalf quickly closes the door and blocks Bilbo's way, "There is a mark, I put it there myself." I wince at the awkward pause that follows this revelation, but Gandalf moves the conversation along. He gestures towards Thorin, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

I prickle as Thorin towers over Bilbo and invades his space, clearly in an unnecessary attempt to intimidate him. I notice Kili turn to look at Bombur, a wary expression on his face. "So-" I cross my arms when I hear the first word he says to the hobbit drip with a kind of sarcastic disbelief, "this is the hobbit." Thorin circles Bilbo, who stares at the floor like a frightened rabbit. "Tell me Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

Ever the gentleman, Bilbo responds, "Pardon me?"

Thorin plows relentlessly on, "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" He continues to circle the poor, confused hobbit. The rest of the dwarves grin smugly, clearly in on the joke. I resist the urge to elbow those closest to me.

A warm sense of pride radiates through me as Bilbo attempts to hold his own and inject a bit of humor into the conversation, "Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know," Thorin stops in front of him, crossing his arms. "but I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo's confidence fades with the volume of his voice.

Thorin nods, "Thought as much." The dwarf king turns his head slightly to address the rest of the company, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

When the dwarves laugh, I tense up. However, it's when I see Gandalf smile and shake his head that I finally snap, _Enough is enough!_

My voice rings out clear and strong, both of which I'm surprised at as well as proud for not hearing even a slight tremor, "Oh yeah? And what kind of answer could you have given when you hadn't seen hide nor hair of combat, _Thorin Oakenshield?_ "

You know, pure silence is a funny thing. It actually rings in the air, like it's almost too pure for it's own good. This silent ringing reaches my ears now. All of the dwarves whip their heads around to look at me, but I notice them squint since I'm still in a quite shadowy portion of the hall (some of the candles had gone out when the door was opened).

"And who dares speak to me this way?" The dwarves part like the Red Sea, leaving nothing in between myself and the dwarf king. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I stride forward as confidently as I can through the two lines and into the light of the chandelier, right in front of Thorin himself. I notice Bilbo looking quite fretful at my rebellion, but I also see relief and gratitude in his eyes. Gandalf only seems to be pensive, watching out first ever interaction. I avoid looking at any of the dwarves, refusing to get distracted.

I take on the stance of a peacemaking calm, gently laying my braid behind me and standing up straight yet relaxed. I tilt my chin up to meet Thorin's gaze, smiling as I say, "I did. If you've got a problem with anyone, at least have an intelligent reason as to why." A sharp intake of breath resonates in the entrance hall, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

Not waiting for a response, I continue, "Now, I'm pretty sure you've been traveling a ways and everyone else has eaten, but I'm sure something can be found." I see Thorin's jaw tense, but I walk definitively around him toward the kitchen. I smile at the three dwarves crowding the doorway. Ori avoids my eyes shyly, a pink hue coming to his cheeks, "Excuse me!" The dwarves make some room for me, but stare in stunned silence along with the rest of the company.

Ignoring their eyes, I walk into the disheveled kitchen. Behind me I hear Thorin speak in a tone that duplicates a steadily rising storm, "Now wait just a minute-"

Fully prepared to have to argue with Thorin, I'm surprised when I hear the swishing of robes and Gandalf's incredibly stern voice, "That's quite enough, Thorin."

Unwilling to let the matter drop, Thorin address Gandalf harshly, "Who in Middle Earth was that?!"

Gandalf refuses to rise to Thorin's anger, his voice reflecting that he's quite amused, "All in due time!" The sound of shuffling feet is heard as everyone retreats to the dining room.

Meanwhile, I'm regaining my breath at the window. _I freaking survived, and I basically called Thorin 'stupid'!_ I think wildly. _I've got to remember how I pulled that off!_

A voice speaks from my elbow, "Nadia?" I jump almost a foot in the air, but calm when I see that it's only Bilbo. The shaken hobbit seems to have retained some of his color and I smile at him. I place a hand over my heart in an attempt to restore it to a normal rhythm as Bilbo continues talking, "I'm so sorry that I didn't talk to you sooner, I was a bit preoccupied-"

I interrupt the hobbit by stepping forward to give him a hug. He stiffens beneath my grip, but I don't let it deter me. I speak quietly, knowing his large ears will catch my words, "It's alright Bilbo, it's alright!" I pull away and smile at the now very red little hobbit, "You aren't alone, I'll help you clean up this mess when it's all over!" Bilbo looks impulsively at the counter, the window, my shoulder, all very quickly in his embarrassment.

While Bilbo collects himself, I turn to scrounge up some food for Thorin. _I might have vaguely insulted him, but I know he isn't a truly terrible person. He's got to be stressed and pretty frustrated with current events, so I may as well play as nice as possible._ I turn back and hand Bilbo a bowl of soup (which I had procured from a large pot which Bombur must have made) and a tankard, "Here, give this to him!" I smile at Bilbo encouragingly, _I can't fight all of your battles, friend…_

Bilbo fidgets with his shirt collar, and mumbles, "Thank you, for- er- well… What you did, it was-" He stalls, seemingly unable to find the words.

I press the bowl and tankard into his hands, "It was no problem Bilbo, they've been quite rude tonight, I'll admit! Now I think that talk in there has something to do with why they're here." Taking the hint, Bilbo gives me an exhausted kind of smile before taking a deep breath and walking out into the dining room.

It had been no secret to me that I had been starving for the past couple of hours, having eaten nothing the entire day. I find an apple and contentedly eat munch on it through the argument on the number of dragons that have been slain by the Grey Wizard, until I hear Gandalf's incredibly powerful voice echo throughout the house. I fumble the apple core, raising my hands to cover my ears until it passes. Knowing that things are about to get important, I hurry into the dining room and quietly take up residence in the dark doorway.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kili is the only one who has taken note of my entrance. Being one of the first to shake himself from the fear instilled by Gandalf, he says nothing, simply staring at me with still wide eyes _._ Uncertain of what to make of this and trying not to let Kili know I've noticed, I instead focus on Gandalf's words.

Gandalf has just retracted into himself after his display of power, but speaking strongly, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." Gandalf's voice has become remarkably lighter, but Bilbo's stance has become far more strained as the situation begins to spiral out of his control.

Gandalf addresses Thorin in particular now, who looks down at the table in a gruff kind of acceptance, "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins." Thorin blinks rapidly and looks down at the table, clearly beginning to regret asking Gandalf's assistance in procuring another member, "There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know-" Gandalf's voice lowers further in an almost fatherly kind of way. He looks at Bilbo and his next words seem to touch the hobbit's heart since they certainly touch mine, "including himself."

Bilbo's body language softens a bit in surprise. I meet his gaze and smile encouragingly from behind Gandalf's back, nodding slightly.

After a moment of silence, Gandalf's ends his speech firmly, "You must trust me on this."

Thorin struggles with Gandalf's words and I roll my eyes in aggravation at his pigheadedness. Finally, he responds gruffly, "Very well. We will do it your way."

Immediately Bilbo begins to stutter his denials, but it's ignored. Thorin asks Balin to give him the contract and the much older dwarf starts into his explanation. A few dwarves laugh in excitement, but I don't turn to see which ones. Balin stands with a folded sheet of thick white paper, "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth…"

 _Oh boy, here we go…_ I pull my braid over my shoulder and fiddle with the base in a nervous twitch.

Thorin accepts the paper form Balin before thrusting it over his shoulder into Bilbo's chest. Bilbo doesn't seem to notice Thorin's rudeness, being far more preoccupied with "Funeral arrangements?!"

I sigh at my friend's distress, resting against a wall and crossing my right foot over my left, _Here we go…_ I don't even bother listening in to Thorin and Gandalf's whispered conversation, knowing that it's all just dramatics.

Bilbo allows the contract to unravel, releasing a very stressed "Oh…". He mutters through most of the contract, sometimes allowing a micro expression to cross his face or raise his eyebrows, "Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair." Gandalf turns away from his conversation with Thorin to smile comfortingly at the rest of the dwarves, assuring them that everything's going according to plan. "Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to la-ce-ra-tions" Bilbo sounds out the last word in disbelief.

Gandalf seems to have a bit of foresight as to what will occur. At the last word, he turns his head attentively towards the brooding halfling. I, myself, step forward gingerly; all of the dwarves (except for Thorin, Bofur, Dwalin, and Bifur who were either too far up the table or facing away from me) finally notice my presence and turn their heads to look at me, but I ignore them.

My deviant thoughts are interrupted as Bilbo reads on, "... evisceration," Bilbo reaches a word which causes him to lower the contract, lean forward, and enunciate the word to the dwarves, "Incineration?"

Bofur takes it upon himself to answer, pulling his pipe away from his lips, "Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." The tips of the ear flaps on his ridiculous hat continue wiggling after his head's gone still. I would have laughed at this, but Bilbo begins to get a bit pale. He mutters something inaudibly, nodding a bit to himself.

Balin's face has an expression of acceptance when he asks "You alright, laddie?"

Bilbo leans forward and puts his hands on his knees. He inhales a sharp wheeze which can't be healthy, "Uh, yeah… Feel a bit faint." I reach a hand out hesitantly, though I'm still a distance away.

He manages to straighten, but Bofur speaks up again, "Think furnace with wings!" Bilbo puts a hand on his chest close to his throat, almost in an attempt to coax oxygen back into his system.

"Bofur!" I reprimand, "He doesn't need a description of a dragon! It's the knowledge of what it is that's making him ill!" The entire company clearly hears me, those with their backs turned jump at my voice. Thorin glances in my direction, taking note of my firm expression as I continue to bore holes into Bofur's hat.

Unfortunately Bofur doesn't seem to have heard me, "Flash of light, searing pain, then _Poof!_ you're nothing more than a pile of ash."

 _It's too late now!_ Knowing what will come next, I leap quickly into the hall. Bilbo doesn't even seem to notice that I'm in front of him, he simply gets paler and paler.

"Nope." I bend my knees and catch Bilbo under his arms. Unfortunately I had forgotten that I'm a bit smaller in this world and his weight is too much for me. I hiss loudly as my knees slam into the floor, but I refuse to let my friend fall. I slowly lower him to the floor before wheeling on the company.

My first victim is the instigator. I huff angrily, fists resting upon my popped hips, "Well, Bofur, that was quite helpful. At what point did you think that your explanation was assisting him? Was it when he stopped to tell you what a marvelous help you were being? Or was it when he lost all of the coloring in his face?" Bofur slowly sits back down sheepishly, not meeting my eyes.

I look around at each member of the company, eyes as wide as plates stare back at this strange girl confronting them all. Finally, Fili seems to put a few pieces together, "Wait, how did you know Bofur's name?"

I think on a dime, glad that I had thought of this slip up when I was hiding earlier that evening. I cross my arms in front of my chest (which probably wasn't the best decision since it's a classic defensive position), my eyes widen in feigned innocence, "I overheard you all shouting and hollering each others' names so I think I know you all better than you know each other by now. I came out in the hall to witness the fine mess you've made in a stranger's home."

Before I can get riled up any further, I close my eyes and exhale. "Look," I glance behind me to check on Bilbo before walking into the shadows of the dining room. I come to a stop to the right of Thorin so I can address everyone. I allow my line of vision to slide easily over all of their faces, refusing to stop on any one in particular, "You all look like some pretty serious travelers and the roads can't be easy." Some of the dwarves mouths (mostly the younger of the group) pop open in astonishment at my sudden change in tone and understanding words. "But you can't just come parading around someone's home! It's what they feel is safe and you've all invaded that privacy without so much as a truly polite word!" I'm silent for a moment before I recall something.

I find Ori in the group and give him a smile, "Except for you, Ori, I know that Bilbo appreciated that you asked to clean up your plate!" Ori's face goes to bright scarlet in a matter of seconds, but he looks pleased nonetheless.

After my last words, you could hear a pin drop. Now finished with my piece, I shrug and turn, ready to tend to Bilbo. I have just lifted a foot slightly off the floor to walk away when Kili whispers, "Who are you?" Something inside of me jumps a little at the question.

I have no explanation for what happens next. I turn automatically to address the speaker and I lock eyes with him. Something clicks. Kili's voice didn't hold a note of malice, anger, or disgust. It was almost awed, like he couldn't quite believe in my existence. Though his eyes are a dark color, I see them light up as he continues to give me undivided attention.

I'm still a bit starstruck when Gandalf clears his throat and answers for me, "Thorin," The company turns its attention to their leader who looks just as astonished as the rest of them. "You asked me to find a 14th member of the company, but I have found yet another who will prove to be incredibly useful and necessary. Nadia," Gandalf gestures his hand towards me, his sleeve just missing a candle's flame, "is a fire mage."

My mouth opens slightly and a whoosh of air escapes. The first response I hear is a dark chuckle. Looking down at the dwarf king's profile in the harsh light, I see his shoulders working to the rhythm of his laughter. The dwarves automatically cringe away as they all see the thundercloud forming in my features.

Thorin finally manages to speak, "A fire mage? Those are the stuff of legends, nothing but fairytales! There are no folk who can truly master the element of fire," Thorin rises to his feet and turns to face me. He still has a grin on his face and a sneer on his lips, much like he did when he walked into Bag End, "let alone this girl who seems to have lost half of her manners and clothes!"

All of the stress and exhaustion from the prior night and that day rises in my chest. I speak almost in a hiss, stepping into Thorin's space this time. Not used to people getting this close without his permission, Thorin stops laughing, "First off, let's address the most ridiculous point of your argument." I grasp Thorin's hand in mine before shaking it firmly.

I stare into Thorin's eyes as I continue to shake his giant calloused hand, "Hello, I'm Nadia and yes I have arms. Look you have them too, how strange!" I make a mockingly surprised face, "Imagine that! Now can we get past that stupidity?" Without awaiting an answer, I nod and release his hand, "Good!" Thorin's eyes are wide in confusion at the crazy tiny girl in front of him. A few of the older dwarves (Balin and Oin mainly) shift uncomfortably at my shameless attitude.

But I'm not done, _Oh no, it's far too late for me to stop now!_ I place my fists on the dark green fabric covering my hips again, "Let's review the facts, shall we?" I narrow my eyes, leaning towards the dwarf king and lower my voice to a whisper, "You may be called 'King Under the Mountain'" Thorin's face goes dark with anger, a storm brewing on the horizon.

But it isn't just his expression. All of the candles are acting strangely, burning very low. I don't care, continuing on my rant, "but you don't have that mountain, do you? You were never 'King', only 'heir'. Your kingdom was lost to all of you" I throw out an arm to gesture to the company, narrowly missing Bofur's hat in the process, "But the point is that you don't have it. You are asking people for help, turning to anyone! So what's the problem if a hobbit and a girl offer help? You've made it clear that we don't matter to you so what do you have to lose?"

My mouth curls into a snarl as I step back a bit into the hall away from them all. The candles are almost out at this point, but it doesn't matter. "I don't appreciate you harassing my friend and treating everyone like dirt." _I'm already over being tossed from place to place for some vague destiny, I won't be treated like this!_ I can almost feel the air crackling as I whisper, "If you want me to respect you," The candles douse to a cinder, "then you _will respect ME!_ "

At the last word, the candles leap with a vitality they hadn't known before. The flame leaps right off of the wicks, spiraling into an inferno which burns around the ceiling. The dwarves duck and cover, some raising random objects as weapons (most notably tankards full of alcohol and a scone).

I'm just as surprised as the rest of them, my fury gone in an instant. Without my support, the fire quickly disappears into thin air.

The company comes back out from hiding, all either staring at the ceiling or me. Kili clambers off of the bench quickly, pushing past everyone.

 _I wonder if he'll run away,_ I think bitterly. I can't think much else because my head is full of cotton. I feel very weak, my face pale and my head spinning. The shadows in the dining room seem to grow as energy quickly drains from my body. I turn slowly to the wizard in confusion, "Gandalf?"

The wizard looks concerned, but I can't analyze anything else because the darkness is eating away at my vision. Kili darts around Gandalf as I fall. Strong arms sweep me up before I can even touch the floor.

"Nadia? Nadia!"


End file.
